Real Soap Opera In A Laundromat

July 21, 1985|By Cheryl Lavin and Laura Kavesh.

A recent letter from Hampshire, Ill., suggests that laundromats are grossly underrated as places to meet people. The writer should know: She worked in one, and if we can believe her, the atmosphere in the local Laundry World is that of a sudsy Club Med.

``Men would come in, see that you were obviously young and female and start with their questions,`` Pat says. ``I had one man who was, I don`t know, in his 50s, and he chased me around the washers and dryers and tried to poke his fingers in my dress. I stopped running and said, `What`s going on?` He said, `I`m sorry. You`re so friendly and nice, you make me feel young again.` ``

Based on her experiences around the Maytags, Pat suggests that if women use a little initiative, they might come home with more than just static cling.

``Start casually talking with the men who are in there,`` she advises.

``Start with, `Oh, your wife stuck you with doing the laundry.` Then you`ll find out if they`re married. Most of the time they say, `She`s working,` but a lot are single.

``You can ask people for change or if the soap machine is working. Sometimes that will start the ball rolling. Nine times out of 10, if you start with one phrase like `It`s hot in here,` that snowballs the conversation.

``All you have to do is be friendly and ask those key questions. I`ve had men offer to help me fold sheets while they`re waiting for their load to dry. One younger guy started folding my laundry for me while we were talking. I did object to the underclothes. I said, `I`ll take care of those myself.` ``

Pat believes the astute woman can learn a lot about a man by observing his laundry behavior. Does he hang up his clothes or crush them into the bag? If the latter, you may have a slob on your hands--or someone with a woman at home, waiting by the ironing board. Just the fact that he`s even there tells you something: You know he values clean clothes. When you meet a man in a bar what do you know, that he likes to drink?

So on a recent summer night, two women cruised the Big Three laundromats in the Lincoln/Halsted/Sheffield area to check out the action.

They entered one palace ablaze with fluorescent lights, marched past the heavy-duty Big Boys and Speed Queens, moved straight toward two men folding sheets and asked if they were single.

The men were taken aback. Even in 1985 men are not used to being approached this directly in laundromats. Yes, they were single, they said. No, they`ve never met women in laundromats. One, though, a 23-year-old banker, said he has a friend who did: A woman approached him and asked for help. Her coins were jammed. He fell for what is possibly the oldest ploy in the laundromat world.

Moving on. The laundromat on Halsted Street and Webster Avenue attracts a family crowd. One couple has brought dinner. In the corner an impromptu bazaar is being set up, with dolls and earrings for sale. But one young woman, a clinical psychologist in shorts and T-shirt, is sorting whites from darks alone. She says she met someone at a laundromat once.

``He was the biggest wierdo,`` she says. ``He had on a black leather jacket and sweatpants. (It`s possible all his other clothes were in the dryer.) He said, `I`ll help you fold yours if you help me fold mine.` `` Not only did she help him fold his clothes, she also helped him carry them out to his car. That was when he jumped her.

At this point a 25-year-old IBM saleswoman next to the psychologist leaps into the conversation.

``I hate laundromats,`` she says. ``I was robbed in one.`` Then, sitting on the washer, she goes back to her reading.

KISS-OFFS

-- ``When I meet a new man in the summer I think, `Are you my ticket to Ravinia?` ``

-- ``I started dating a dentist. Then I noticed the little white light on top of a taxi cab looks like a tooth.``